


Eyes That See My Sin

by Kinah_Jala



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe, Awesome, Child Abuse, F/M, Female James T. Kirk, Gen, Implied Incest, Kid Jim, Pack, Sharing a Body, Tarsus IV, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 11:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kinah_Jala/pseuds/Kinah_Jala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five alternate selves 2007!Jim Kirk liked and one that was a stranger.</p>
<p>‘You know, you might live in a dystopian society where cuddles are kinkier than whips and gags, but I envy you. For what his life means, I envy you.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cracked Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from lyrics of 'Who Am I' by Casting Crowns.
> 
> Totally different style of writing than normal and completely unedited. Beta offers welcome. I'm not good with dialogue, particularly the punctuation aspects.

## 1.      Cracked Mirror

‘Fuck, Scott, you got it wrong again!’ shatters through my turmoiled head. Cracking open an aching eye I squint at the blood-stained ceiling. Shit. Not again. I’ve had enough of rouge anti-Feds trying for a Jim-shaped notch in their sword.

A smooth, familiar tone slides into the continuing argument. ‘It would appear that his ocular colour has also altered. I would advise that you refrain from further experiments with the ion interference. It is illogical to continuously sacrifice competent crewmembers for alternate copies of yourself whose future service and contribution to the Empire is as doubtful as his competence.'

I catch the last part, but aren’t cognisant enough to muster the required outage. I manage ‘I can do my job. I ace my job. My job is to be awesome,’ then fall silent. Somehow, it doesn’t have the suavity my claims always do. Peeling my eyelids back, I’m not surprised by the unimpressed looks on the familiar faces. I recognized their voices, even if the conversation made no sense. Admittedly, I _am_ surprised by the beards- and the one _too_ familiar face that I only see whenever I venture into engineering. Scotty keeps a spotless, shiny house.

However, given the snippets of conversation I caught, my alternate is less shocking than Chekov bouncing towards me with a bright smile and a chirpy ‘Can I kill him? Please?’

My mouth falls open with a shocked exhale- not a scream. Definitely not a scream. Or a shriek. The contempt on other-me’s face when he steps forward might say otherwise, but I assure you it wasn’t. ‘No, Chekov. All of you, piss off. And McCoy, turn the damn cameras off. I’ll know if you haven’t’. I feel slightly abandoned when Spock just raises a sardonic eyebrow before sliding out. Bones snorts and tosses a scalpel at a torture device on his way out. I refuse to think further on that. Other-me lazes into a chair.

Seven or so minutes later a knock interrupts his unhurried summation of his universe. Yet another familiar face peeks in, but this one in particular makes me freeze as I stumble to understand what his existence implies. When Other-me turns at my snort, I offer him a wry smirk.

‘You know, you might live in a dystopian society where cuddles are kinkier than whips and gags, but I envy you. For what his life means, I envy you’. My voice comes out more broken than I’d planned.

His eyes sharpen. ‘How do you know Lieutenant Riley?’ he snaps. I consider what to say, how much to give away. He leans forward. Whatever lie I come up with is unlikely to get through him. It hits me that this being knows me more intimately than anyone else. Alternate or not, he _is_ me. ‘Tell me’.

‘I saved his life once, in my reality. Given the general callousness in this one, I doubt you would’ve made the same choice if you were in that situation. And if you were never in that particular situation, I have every reason to envy you.’ I snap more harshly than I intended. Breathing through my nose, I ignore Other-me while struggling to sit upright.

His exhale hits my ear as he sinks back in his chair, suddenly vulnerable. ‘You had Tarsus too’.

It’s not a question. There’s a beat as we both adjust to the new information. My eyes trail to the door. This is important. Tarsus isn’t to be taken lightly- it could’ve turned me into Other-me. But the boy who just left through that door tells me more about Other-me than the knowledge of Tarsus ever could. ‘You saved him. You live here, in this mirror-universe, but you still saved him’.

‘As did you, in your world.’ His easy confirmation jolts me. His sharp gaze makes me as uncomfortable as mine makes him. ‘How the fuck did you survive? It must have been better, easier for you. You’re not from here, weakling. You couldn’t’ve survived his kill-list. So you were a _chosen_.’ He sneers the last word.

‘I wasn’t. I’m no weakling, Other-me. I survived Frank. I survived Kodos. I survived Nero. I survive, it’s what I do.’

A pause.

‘I thought your job was being awesome.’ It’s a dry remark, but with the guillotine humour that characterizes Tarsus. My lips quirk and I sit up, leaning my elbows on my crossed knees. The academy teaches us to use shared interests and common experiences to encourage diplomatic relations. Tarsus is one common experience that irrevocably binds you. I relax.

‘Meh, that comes naturally. I mean, my continued existence is a pretty big indicator that the universe is in love with me.’ Smirking at him with all my trademark confidence, his quirked lips don’t disappoint. He’s relaxed from the harsh-faced dictator that greeted me and drawled out an explanation of his world. ‘Why did you do it?’ I query. ‘Why save him?’

He falls silent for a moment. ‘He tried to kill me. He didn’t succeed, of course not. But when I was holding him up by the throat against a tree, he just kept chattering at me as though we were at a picnic. In your universe. It was normal, for a moment. I decided I needed a protégé- a legacy’.

I understand. ‘Just in case you didn’t make it out. So that there was at least one person who remembered you existed, someone that knew who you were.’ We look at each other. He snorts. I continue. ‘I knew people would remember _what_ I was. I was Captain Kirk’s son, child of a hero.’ I spit. ‘No-one knew who I was, not even my mother. Not until then.’

He is appeased from his discomfort. ‘So who were you?’ he asks, impertinent and curious. I let a mask fall over my face, the usual one for Admirals and shrinks. He shifts and I remember what he told me of this world he lives in- he’s filing his nails with a blood-stained knife. The mask falls. I don’t bother looking contrite. ‘I became a murderer, a killer and I enjoyed it. I stabbed men in the stomach and gutted them like animals. The analysts treated me as though I would break apart because of it, but why should I? They were animals’. I can’t stop know that I’ve started, can’t bother to censor my words for someone that understands, someone that doesn’t care. ‘Most of them were sick and withered, or mutated with whatever Kodos had injected them with. Some weren’t. and I skinned them. Skinned them and cut the meat from their bones then fed it to the children and told them it was deer. I think Kevin knew, but he cared about as much as me. It kept us alive, kept my Pack alive.’

His eyes trail over me. ‘Pack?’ he queries ‘there were more of you?’

I’m surprised. I shouldn’t be. He might’ve saved Kev, but that doesn’t mean he’s me. ‘Twenty-three.’ I announce. ‘Well, actually there were more. Forty-seven at the start. But-’ I pause. ‘That was the start’. It would confuse anyone else, but he just whistles and gives me a nod of respect. I’ve told people this before. The official record required it and so did my therapists. They all condoled me on loosing half. But Other-me doesn’t see it as a failing. He wasn’t surprised that I lost twenty-four people, he was shocked I saved as many as I did. His respect is rare, but I’ve gained it.

For surviving Tarsus, anyone would have my respect. For saving Kevin, he has my gratitude. For understanding but not judging, he has my amity.

We pause in contented understanding.


	2. My Pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim's split into two again, this time in the 2007 verse.
> 
> The last thing Jim remembers is Tarsus and now there are people looking at him for guidance and a man snarling at his Packmate and he doesn't know what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! I can promise with certainty that I shall update once a week until this story is finished. Perhaps more. 
> 
> On another thread of thought, would anyone sponsor me for the forty-hour famine? I'm living in a box for forty hours. If you will, please do so at; https://www.worldvision.org.nz/portal/myworldvision/faminedetails.aspx?lid=9557e414-672f-48c1-9f40-053228d404b1 .
> 
> Thanks!

## 2.      My Pack

What’s going on? I don’t know. I don’t know.

So many people. They’re looking at me. Why are they looking at me? On a ship. There are the thrusters; the way the wall curves shows they’re the model 4.368A. But the bulge at the top right-hand corner is different; it’s been modified.

How? Why? Given that-

The people are looking at me. Why are they looking at me? They have phasers. A new model, I haven’t seen it before. They’re smaller, the battery’s more compact and without whirring. How did that work? They’d have to compress the nano-receptors, perhaps through the removal of G-M connectors…

Hang on, phasers? They’ve got phasers? Why? The last people I saw with phasers were on-

One of them is snarling. Guttural. I flinch back. He looks really angry, but lost as well. I feel sorry for him. His eyes flash over me with scorn. Is there something wrong with me? Of course there is. I was put on the death list, I’m not fit to live, of course there’s something wrong with me. His eyes trail away. I feel self-conscious.

Kevin is his new interest. Kevin? Kevin’s here? Why is Kevin here? He should be safe. Is he safe here- is here safe?

Snarler is staring at Kevin. Will he attack? I hope he doesn’t. How can I protect Kevin? Do I need to? I don’t want to make Snarler a threat if he’s not already. What should I do?

 _‘Pack?’_ Snarler asks, bewildered.

How does he- nevermind. He’s not attacking Kevin, so it’s okay. And if he knows of the pack, he must know of Tarsus. But he’s not pitying or contemptuous, so he’s a Packmate, or the like. He knew Kevin for Pack.

‘Are you sure you want to do that?’ he turns hostile, closing in on himself defensively.  His hands fist. How can I stop this? One of the others in pointing a phaser at Snarler. I want to stop this. How can I stop this? I need to protect everyone. I can’t decide. I need to be stronger, more decisive. How can I calm this down? I should be good at this- I remember being good at this. Why aren’t I? I feel frozen. Snarler has turned so aggressive. The only person he softened towards was Kevin.

‘Yes.’ I tell him. ‘All of them are pack.’

He spins his head to look at me. I’m frozen.

‘I am you,’ he says. What? He can’t be me- I’m me. It’s not like we could be split souls, either. Couldn’t we? We probably could. I was injected with so many different things in the Governor’s lab, anything is possible. Besides, there’s no denying that my character in my memories is different from how I am now- stronger, more like Snarler.

‘Yes.’ I test the word. ‘I am.’

He makes an abortive movement towards me. The man with the phaser aims it. I’m not watching closely enough, or my brain-eye coordination is off, because suddenly Snarler is standing over a phaser-less man who has fallen unconscious.

Kevin shrinks towards me. I hug him, not too sure how to act. Snarler has just attacked a person he didn’t know for certain was a danger. On the other hand, I could see how a stronger person with my memories would react to any perceived threat. And I’d just decided Snarler was me, one of mine, my Pack.

I protect my Pack.


	3. Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Jim Kirk split into half, the Enterprise crew weren't exactly surprised at the existence of his 'bad' side. They were surprised at how well the gentler Jim, the one they thought of as 'good', got on with his baser counterpart.  
> The real shocker was how much the instinctual JT liked peaceful Jim.

## 3.      Kindness

Strong. Smart, I can tell. Indecisive. Agile. Quick. Physically, the same as me. The exact same as me. Is me. No, identical to me. Think. How to use?  
Nice. Too nice. Innocent look will work. Kind. Useless, weak. Sentiment is not an advantage unless it’s for Pack.

Others.

Tall. Green. Alien. Stronger, strongest. Don’t fight- not physically. Mentally? No. Smart, too smart. Emotionally? Definitely possible. Worships first one. First one identical to me. Can use.

Grey. Older. Easily overpowered. Intelligent and protective. Do not attack those he cares about. Cares about first two. Seems to care about me. Can use.

Small. Young. Active. Looks like-  
Pack?  
‘ _Pack?’_

Muscles. Gun. Danger. Gun aimed at me. How to terminate? Holder looks to Identical. Can use. Act same as Identical. Raise eyebrow. Smirk. ‘You sure you want to do that?’

Identical already looking at me. Turned when I said ‘Pack’. Bad. Shouldn’t show weakness, Pack is weakness. No. Pack is strength. No. Pack is everything, weakness and strength and reason. Do not risk Pack. If they know Pack is important, Pack will be at risk. Ignore the-one-that-looks-like-Pack. Identical nods. What? Is something important? Bad. Not paying attention is weakness. No strength in being oblivious.

‘Yes. Pack. All of them are Pack.’ Identical says. He shouldn’t know about Pack. Anyone who knows about Pack is danger to Pack. Danger to Pack is inexcusable. I snarl. The-one that-must-be-Pack-even-if-the-others-aren’t flinches. That is wrong. Pack must not be scared. I’m usually better around Pack, kinder, more controlled. Like Identical.

Fuck. Look to Identical. Look to memories most blurred. Look to Tarsus. Clear. Compare and contrast. I am not the same as I was on Tarsus. I am not warmed by Pack. I am like I was on Tarsus, but not the same. So is Identical.

‘I am you.’ I say. Watch carefully. Is Identical receptive? If yes, am safe. Is pack safe? If I’m right, Pack is safe. If I’m not, must destroy all but one-who-is-Pack.

Identical looks at me. ‘Yes,’ he says, stunned and slow. Too stunned. Too slow. He must be me. He can’t have survived until now unless he’s part of me, speeding him up. ‘Yes, I am.’ He is slow. Do I want him to return to being part of me?

Gunman waves gun wildly. Do not hear what he yells. Gun ends up pointing at Kev. Unacceptable.

I disarm Gunman. Gunman slumps to the floor. Kevin shrieks. I turn. He shrinks away from me with fear. Bad. Pack must not be in fear.

Identical steps up to him. Still too slow. But comforting, kind as I cannot (will not) be. Kevin accepts his reassurance and relaxes. Identical stumbles out a command. The others stand back, wary of me, trusting of him. Kevin turns in his arms with shaking shoulders.

Kevin cringes from me. Curls towards Identical.

Yes, I decide. Yes, I want Identical to be part of me again.


	4. Red

Red. A red top. Red.   
For a moment, that’s all I can process. Red. A red top that’s not civvies. By now, I’m used to the other aspects- the identical features, the different features- hell, even the boobs aren’t shocking. But-  
Red.  
‘Gold’ she says. ‘Gold’. There’s a note of stunned defeat in her tone. ‘Of course you get gold. Why shouldn’t you get gold’. Her fixation on my shirt tell me that I’m not the first Other she’s met. It also tells me that it’s not a prank and she- she’s not the Captain. ‘Gold. Gold and three stripes. Three fucking stripes!’ she exclaims, staring at my sleeve. ‘Captain.’ A sneer.  
‘You’re not.’ It comes out stunned. ‘Why the fuck aren’t you? I’m a Captain. You’re me. You should be a captain. Fuck, even mirror-me was a captain. Why aren’t you a captain?’  
She gives me a patented dumbass look. ‘I’m female. You’re not.’ She snorts. ‘I knew the bastard was lying. It had everything to do with my gender.’ She gives me a look. ‘It is because I’m a woman, right? Or did you just sleep with an Admiral?’  
‘I didn’t sleep with any Admiral!’ I protest squeakily. Then I pause. ‘At least, I don’t think I have. I might’ve been drunk.’ I reconsider. ‘Why haven’t you slept with an Admiral, anyway? I would’ve if it meant I got a captainship.’ I can’t say I’ve ever been shy about being what Bones calls ‘a sluttier slut than any slut I’ve fucked’.   
She leans forward and braces herself on the table. ‘I don’t know what it’s like for a man, but there’s no pleasure in being fucked as a woman. It’s in, out and over. Perhaps if they care they’ll rub your clit. If they don’t, tough. I had enough of it after the first year. It took this long to get rid of my rep enough that strangers don’t start randomly feeling me up in the mess. I’m not going to re-establish it trying to get a Captainship they’ll take from me in half a year.’  
I consider her. What comes to me is stupid and likely incestuous. A bright idea! ‘Maybe you just haven’t had a good partner. You need someone who knows what a woman likes. Someone who knows what you like, in particular.’ I slide forward and wink. She stares at me in disbelief.  
What follows is the most mind-blowing sex of my life.


End file.
